


Time Apart

by missema



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kmeme prompt for something sweet and sexy with Marcurio, him feeling threatened by a new follower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Apart

Marcurio loved Sylva, despite not truly understanding his wife at times. Before they'd wed, they'd traveled all around Skyrim together, and he'd watched as the legendary power of the Dragonborn grew before his eyes, and knew that she was a part of something so great that he could barely fathom it. But even then, he'd only seen the woman he'd come to care for so ardently.  
  
Sylva had sienna colored eyes and skin to match, making her standout in her homeland. She was a Nord through and through, though sometimes people mistook them both for Imperials, though Marcurio had black hair and hers was a lighter shade, something between brown and black. He loved her hair, shorter than his but long enough, coming to her chin, framing her face and showing off the green warpaint that streaked just over her eyes, and down her nose. When they lay in bed together, sometimes he unbraided her hair and let it hang free the loose waves mixing in with the straighter hair as he threaded his fingers through it.  
  
They used to adventure together, his spellcraft prowess was why she'd hired him in the first place. She took him along on her adventures, the two of them sharing rooms in taverns and talking until the sun rose again and they were both exhausted. He remembered her eyes, red-rimmed with tiredness as she invited him to sleep together, simply sleep, in a frozen inn in Winterhold. It was there he realized how he felt, as her warm, sleeping body curled into his, her presence bringing a calm over him that he had never previous known. Together they'd fought enemies, lightning and sword, fireballs and shield, taking down dragons and bandits across Skyrim, and he'd fallen deeper in love with her, but always holding his tongue and never acted on his desires. He had been happy, content to be at her side keeping her safe until the day she showed up wearing an Amulet of Mara.  
  
"An Amulet of Mara? I'm surprised someone like you isn't already married." He'd remarked.  
  
Sylva had given him a sidelong look before she'd answered. Their lives back home, they hadn't really talked much about them before. He hadn't told her why he'd come to Skyrim, and she hadn't told him why she'd been leaving when the Imperial army captured her. Topics like that were avoided, but they had no end of conversation between the two of them. There were their adventures, and the magical theory that had the two of them debating into the night, current events, even their take on politics aligned.  
  
"Are you interested in me?" Sylva was careful, speaking slowly as she asked, and glowed when he responded in the affirmative.  
  
After that, they were quickly married in Riften as is the tradition in Skyrim. They moved into her home in Whiterun, and had spent a good week in their marital bed together before venturing out again. He had been suffused with happiness, so much that glee ran through him and made its home on his handsome face, as it made his wife grow ever more lovely. They settled into a life together, loving easily and eagerly, though Marcurio knew that she simply couldn't stay at home with him, their responsibilities, and the fierce dragonblood that flowed through her made it impossible for her to live in stillness. Sylva began to leave him behind, and though he didn't mind, he still worried about her. He understood there were things she had to do alone as the Dragonborn.  
  
His understanding dimmed one night when she came back to Whiterun with one of the Companions trailing in her wake, and Marcurio felt a stab of jealousy piece him. It was the first time he'd felt such since marrying, but not since meeting Sylva. Before she'd ever donned the Amulet of Mara, admiring gazes swept across her figure, and he caught many lingering on her ample bosom or the pleasing roundness of her behind. Her good deeds earned her the affection of many, and there was misplaced interest that he tried to discourage with scowls. In the end, it had mattered not, for she chose him and claimed never to be happier than when she was fighting at his side.  
  
"My dear, this is Farkas. Farkas, my husband and a fine wizard, Marcurio." She introduced them, leaving the man standing next to him at the cooking spit as she bounded up the stairs.  
  
"Farkas." Marcurio said, by way of greeting. He didn't want to be friendly with this man, this new stranger that had taken his place. The man nodded at him, then went back to ignoring Marcurio as he waited for Sylva to return. Upstairs he could hear Lydia greeting her Thane in her formal way, and wondered what new burdens his wife was depositing for Lydia to keep safe. Farkas said nothing, but looked around at the comfortably modest home as he shifted from foot to foot while he waited.  
  
A few more minutes passed, and then Sylva flew down the steps in a new set of armor, elven by the look of it. Even in his annoyance with the brooding Farkas who had taken his place, he found his wife radiant, her beautiful face alluring beneath her helm. He felt an arm wrap around his waist and he turned, smiling sadly at her, but she didn't comment before kissing him goodbye. After gratefully accepting the meal he'd made her, she vanished with Farkas behind her, not even telling him where she was going.  
  
The next few weeks were rough, and Marcurio saw little of his wife. While he was shopping in the market, he saw her leaving Jorrvaskr when he hadn't even known she was in Whiterun. She hadn't stopped in to see him at all, hadn't informed him that she was at home. He wondered if she had been up to Dragonsreach, if the whole of the Jarl's court had seen her before he had. Marcurio felt betrayed and embarrassed, confused as to why his wife hadn't made herself known to him. If she didn't want to live and fight with him, then why had they married?  
  
His own thoughts became his torment and he pictured her and Farkas together in the Companion's hall. Did they talk, as he and his wife had before they'd wed? Was Farkas looking for more than conversation? The other man had been stout with muscle and had a painted face like his wife, and these few similarities stoked the embers of jealousy within Marcurio. Though the Companion had done nothing dishonorable during their brief meeting, his eyes hadn't even lingered upon Sylva overlong, Marcurio couldn't help but wonder about him, whether he could trust his character. To ease his mind, he resolved to confront Sylva when he next saw her, though he feared it wouldn't be for some time.  
  
His fear was proven correct, a fortnight had passed when she at last returned home.  
  
"Sylva, what's going on? Why don't you stay at home anymore? I've seen you coming from Jorrvaskr on days when you don't even come to tell me you're in Whiterun." Marcurio tried to keep his thoughts about Farkas from coming to the surface, but envy that the man had so easily slipped into his spot burned within him. He loved Sylva, and he should be the one to fight at her side.  
  
He had expected her to deny anything was wrong, but instead, Sylva broke down, crushing herself to him, clutching at his robes. She might have been crying, but he didn't know, she buried her head in his shoulder and he simply held her, feeling his anger dissipate as he held onto her. Something was going on, and he had no idea what it was.  
  
"Marcurio, I've become Harbinger of the Companions, but it wasn't easy. Surely you knew that Kodlack died?" Sylva asked, as she pulled back from him. He felt his shoulder wet with her tears, saw the confusion in her face and knew that he had been wrong, very wrong about what was going on.  
  
"Yes, dear. I was sorry for his loss, though I didn't know him. I knew that if he was a Companion, that you did."  
  
"I didn't want to be around you while I suffered through the trials that they set for me. There are secrets, and I was...changed in a way that altered everything. I just couldn't come home then, because I would have taken one look at you and spilled every secret, betrayed the trust they set in me."  
  
Marcurio nodded, chastened by her confession, rubbing Sylva's back as he did. "I'm sorry I was upset. I just didn't know what to think." His voice was low and full of contrition, tears of relief prickling at his eyes. He had been so foolish, so needlessly worried.  
  
"And I am sorry I caused you pain by being so distant." Sylva pulled away from him again, and he cupped her chin with his hand, kissing her softly. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her body against his. This was what he'd missed so, had been so destitute without. Just the touch of his wife, the feel of her sweet lips against his had done scores to set his world to rights.  
  
"Marcurio, please. I've missed you so much." Sylva whispered to him, and he needed no further bidding to lead her to the bedroom. There was an awkward moment when he began to undress her, not realizing Lydia was in the room until the housecarl scuttled out, red in the face. He and Sylva simply laughed as the door banged shut behind her, and he resumed kissing his wife.  
  
With tantalizingly slow movement, Marcurio divested Sylva of her armor, piece by piece, his fingers gentle as they eased her out of the light armor she favored. His fingers swept down her body, committing the feel of her skin to his memory, a recollection for him to slip into when she was no longer in their bed. Marcurio stood behind her, as he slid off her undertunic and smallclothes, then quickly shed his own clothing. Once nude, he pressed his chest to her back, cupping her breasts in his hands as he kissed her neck from behind. He let one hand drift from its duty hefting the pleasant weight her breast to trail down her side and back up again, delighting in the shiver she gave at his light touch.  
  
Sylva turned her head to one side and met his mouth in a ravenous kiss, her arm extended so she could reach the back of his head and pull him closer to her. Against her body, his fingers were no longer feathery in their touches, but determined as he rolled her nipple between the fingers of one hand, alternating between sweeping grazes and pinches, kneading her breast with the whole of his hand at times. The other hand snaked lower, across her belly and downward, though he wasn't quite able to delve into her sex in their current position, it was enough for him to touch her, to tease.  
  
His hardening length rested comfortably between them, and Sylva swiveled her hips, enticing him with the movement of her rear against him. Her kiss swallowed his groan, and he gave her nipple a last flick, before ending their kiss and coming around to face her. Still standing, he pressed kisses to her neck and throat, then downward, ever downward and his lips met her collarbone and chest, peppered the pert spheres of her breasts until his mouth met their peaks and he stopped his descent. His tongue teased her to hardness before he suckled upon her, her head rolling back onto her shoulders in ecstasy as his mouth moved from one to the other in turn, fingers pinching the wet nipple he'd left behind.  
  
The air hung heavy with the scent of her growing desire, and in sliding a hand down to the apex of her thighs, could feel her slickness that covered the curls around her sex. Marcurio gave a deep, pleased growl at this discovery, and withdrew his hand, sucking her wetness off his fingers. He wanted to take her where she stood, to push her against the edge of the table and work her with his hands and mouth until she came, then have her mount him, but Sylva's weary eyes and the memory of her tears discouraged him. There would be time for that in the future, perhaps even that night, but this time, it was as much about their bond as it was comforting her.  
  
With that thought, he was gentle as he picked her up and laid her down on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her laid bare against the straw and furs. Sylva's eyes were dark with lust when he met her on the bed, and after a few kisses, he wasted no more time and put his head between her legs.  
  
Her folds were deliciously slick as he sucked upon them, wiggling his tongue inside of her, just to hear the gasp she'd make. There was something wonderful about this act, the sounds of the world around him dampened as he explored the delights between her legs, throbbing with desire as he took in her familiar taste. Her pearl had already ripened, and he flicked his tongue over it quickly then settled into the pace she liked, slow, deliberate strokes that made her shake from head to foot. Marcurio could tell that she would end soon, and with another pressured sweep, Sylva went rigid then let out a yell of release that he was sure the whole of Whiterun heard, her body writhing underneath him.  
  
He let it die out before he slid inside of her, and Sylva ran her hands over his body, reacquainting herself with his hard planes. He was no warrior, but he kept fit, and his wife's hand skimmed over his chest and through the dusting of dark hair that covered it, up over his shoulders, and cupped around his neck, drawing him closer to her. When he switched positions, pushing deeper into her and he laid upon her, Sylva's hand tangled in his hair as they kissed, broken only by the savage thrust caused them both to cry out as he felt heat swell within him.  
  
His release came far too quickly for his liking, though it was to be expected after such a long time apart. Marcurio felt himself hurtling toward the end, aided by the snap of Sylva's hips against his own, her walls constricting around him as he sped up. When he came, it felt akin to breaking the surface of water and drawing in the first, sweet breath to lungs nearly depleted of air. He nearly lost himself to the sensation, but was pulled back by the touch of Sylva's hand, sweeping his disheveled hair from his face. Beneath him she looked sated and he placed a breathless kiss on her sweet mouth.  
  
"I hadn't realized how much I'd missed you." He admitted as he settled back against the bed. It was true, with jealousy so firmly in possession, he had forgotten how much he simply missed her, couldn't remember how much peace her presence brought to him.  
  
Sylva turned on her side to face him, a lazy finger drawing shapes across his chest. He felt her spelled words against his skin, and closed his eyes as she repeated the sequence, though he knew what she was writing. I LOVE YOU.  
  
Silence spanned between them, and Marcurio shut his eyes, letting the mesmerizing effect of her touch add to the drowsiness that came after lovemaking. They had been silent for some time before he stopped her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the fingertips.  
  
"It seems that I wasn't the only one that felt lost." Sylva commented as she lay her head against his chest. "I'll try not to stay away so long again. It isn't good for either of us."  
  
On that, they could agree, he thought to himself, as sleep drifted up to take hold of him.


End file.
